Writing as a landscape painter rather than a photographer, I find this book beautiful, provocative and inspiring. The photographs seem to have been taken with a slow exposure and a large plate, capturing grainy texture in some, in others softening detail with shadow or movement. The photographs are "painterly" in that composition and contrast of tone take precedence over subject matter. All are in black and white, though the ink used to print them is a deep, warm-toned bistre rather than jet black, lending the greys and whites an almost creamy depth.
The subjects are varied, united by the artist's eye rather than any theme. Here are the stones at Callanish, sunlit, rough-textured as tree-bark against a black sky. Here the filigree of a copper beech is silhouetted against bright water, its reflections shimmering, at Stourhead. Here a wrecked car, half-submerged at Cliffe lagoon. Several photographs immediately call landscape painters to my mind; moonlit sheep at Avebury are pure Samuel Palmer, sweeping curves of grass and chalk at the vale of the White Horse feel like Cotman; a clump of windswept beechtrees John Nash, concrete blocks at Pett Level his brother Paul. I am sure these resonances are deliberate, especially as in the case of the Kent and Sussex painters (the Nashes, Edward Burra etc) Fay Godwin was working within a local artistic tradition of which they are part.
John Fowles' essay picks out other influences, many of them literary. His thought-provoking commentary starts the book, and Fay Godwin's photographs stand alone, each with a spare location caption and no more. The sequence has been carefully thought out and forms a poetic flow of its own. I would recommend you look through the photographs slowly and with care before reading Fowles' essay; let them do their work visually before you allow yourself to be influenced by his interpretaion.